


even when I doubt you

by RosePerSomnium



Series: Steter Week 2018 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama Queen Peter Hale, Established Relationship, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Steter Week 2018, Stiles reverts to the f-word when he's desperate, Stiles sucks at dying, Threat of Major Character Death, Unreliable Narrator, excessive thinking about dying (but not in a depressing way... for long...), sorry for the tags, worried!Peter isn't very eloquent, writing in present tense is confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 01:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15377658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosePerSomnium/pseuds/RosePerSomnium
Summary: When Stiles starts coughing up the fatal black goo, Peter is already chasing the alpha who attacked him. What are a few "I love you"s against his greatest desire?





	even when I doubt you

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo hoo, I made it! Okay, I only finished four of the planned eight works because my brain sucks at coming up with _short_ ideas but whatever.  
>  So starting today, I'll post either a finished story or the beginning/a teaser of a longer story for eight days in celebration of "Steter Week".  
> If that's your cup of tea, please stay tuned and let me know what you think! Any suggestions for improvement (grammar, vocab, missing tags or whatever), as well as any kind of comment, are greatly appreciated!  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Btw, I'm tagging "Graphic Descriptions of Violence" and "Threat of Major Character Death" as a precaution. I don't think it's too bad but everybody perceives these things differently, so please take care of yourself!
> 
> For the prompt "Alpha!Peter or Creature!Stiles"  
> The title comes from the Twenty-One Pilots song "Doubt" (Anybody else excited about their comeback?)

"Pe—Peter." Stiles coughs up blood again, staring at the black goo in his palm with a mixture of disgust and desperation. "Peter."

It's no more than a painful croak, but he knows Peter can hear him. Has to with the way he's tuned in to Stiles at all times. He had promised to always hear him, always come running for him, ages ago. At that point, it had sounded kind of creepy. Stiles still had been insecure, still hard to trust anyone, still seeing himself as the useless sidekick. (Or the deceitful void.) Now he has confidence, knows his own value, enjoys the life he no longer deems worthless.

He listens for anybody, for signs he's not abandoned but can't hear anything over his pounding heartbeat. Nobody comes. Of course not. This is Peter's chance to become alpha again. Why would he stay with Stiles instead? What are a few "I love you"s against his greatest desire?

He sobs and struggles to sit up at least, but it's not worth the effort. Panting, he lies in the dirt somewhere in the preserve, feeling his blood pool around his chomped on leg, coughing up more. So this is how he dies. On a regular night patrol with his boyfriend whom he bickered with on the way instead of telling him how much he loved him. Whom his dad still hasn't accepted.

Stiles groans. The last thing he told his dad was how Peter kept him safer from harm than anybody. Well, they can settle it between themselves now. At least his dad has no wolfsbane bullets yet — as far as Stiles is aware, but who knows what his dad has sneaked into the house since Stiles moved in with Peter three months ago.

Heck, why do people say you see your life passing by before your eyes when you die? He's not thinking about the past at all, only about the future he is missing out on now. Finishing his degree, making his dad and Peter get along with each other, living with Peter for the rest of his life, getting his happy end… 

He sniffles, rubbing black tears from his cheeks. He has tried his best, has worked so hard to stay alive, stay human and keep his pack safe as well, but no, he has to be the first bitten one who fucking rejects the bite, of fucking course. It's not as if he ever wanted the stupid claws and fangs anyway. He has never wanted to check if the supernatural would work its magic on him too or if he would become the first hyperactive, flailing failwof in the history of graceful, badass supermodels. 

It hurts. Not just the dying part. The not being good enough for the gift. Not being good enough to not get bitten in the first place. To not be enough, period, for Peter to fucking stay by his side when he's dying. 

He tries to curl in on himself. His movements are sluggish and he can't feel his legs anymore, isn't even sure he's moving. He could look, but keeping his eyes open is hard work he's not up to right now. So he relaxes further into slipping away and listens to the sounds of the woods he grew to love even despite all the horror movie stuff happening here.

He hears the wind in the treetops. The rustling of small animals scurrying around and two big creatures crashing through the underbrush, snarling at each other. That must be Peter and the alpha. Sounds like they're getting nearer. 

He could say Peter's name again. Could tell him the bite didn't take. He couldn't know, has chased the alpha the moment they ran away after attacking Stiles. Would he have chosen differently if he had known? 

Stiles knows Peter can win. Will win and become an alpha again. But if he distracts him now, the rogue may get an opening to hurt Peter or to escape. And he doesn't know if Peter would choose him. He is dying anyway. 

A sickening crunch echoes through the dark, followed by a victorious howl. 

Stiles smiles. He would recognize his wolf anywhere. Good, now Peter won't have to be alone. He can build his own little pack, be the alpha he was meant to be, be a good one this time. He knows he will be, he has gotten so much better these last years.

"Stiles."

He squints through narrowed eyes and sees a blur of two figures, drenched in red.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's gonna be okay. Just hang in there for another minute. You're gonna be okay."

Stiles doesn't want to "hang in there". Peter is back, has come for him after all, even if he wasn't his first priority. It's time to let go. He isn't alone anymore, has seen Peter once more, is still his "sweetheart" in the end…

"I need you to open your mouth, sweetheart. Yes, that's good. Now bite down as hard as you can."

Stiles does as he's asked, whimpering from the taste of blood and the smell of an unwashed body next to his. What is Peter doing? He knows drinking blood is a vampire thing, not a werewolf one, right?

"Shh, I know it's disgusting, it will be over in a second. Just hold on."

Stiles feels him moving around, crouching between them and placing a firm hand on his forehead.

"Okay. Just one more thing. Just bite down hard, Stiles, I know you can do it. Just bite down. That's the last thing I'm asking of you, I promise. Ready?"

Stiles clenches his teeth as tight as he can. He is shaking from exhaustion and exertion but holds on. When he feels the flesh in his mouth being pushed away, he presses his jaws together, throwing his head in the other direction with the help of Peter's hand.

He hears skin ripping and feels fresh blood gushing onto his face and neck. He spits it out, retching. Peter is there. He helps him to roll over and cleans his face with gentle hands.

"You did it. I knew you could." He sounds amazed. "You did so well, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you. You can rest now. I'll watch over you and you'll feel much better after a few hours of sleep."

Stiles tries to talk, tries to tell him there won't be any wakening up if he goes to sleep. Tries to say "I love you". His lips are sticky with blood and he's not sure he's even making any sounds.

Peter lifts him up into his arms and starts to walk somewhere, probably back to town, so everybody can say goodbye. The rhythmic up and down lulls Stiles into an odd state of relaxing his body and mind while still noticing what's going on around him. He assumes this is what the meditation teacher talked about back when he was losing it after his mom died.

He's just floating along, listens to Peter's breathing and footsteps, to the sound of busy wildlife and the melodic whisper of water. They must be at the little creek inside the preserve to wash all the blood away. Peter peels his torn clothes off, then cleans him with some cool and wet cloth. It burns around the bite in his leg, but the pain isn't too bad.

He expects to get carried on, but instead, he's dressed in a shirt that smells deliciously like Peter and then, the werewolf cuddles up to him, moving both of them around until he's comfortable.

Stiles doesn't get it. Doesn't Peter understand that he's dying? Does he want to savor their last minutes (hours?) together before he's turning into an unmoving, cold corpse? He's not cold yet, but that's probably paresthesia from the blood loss. 

He doesn't feel that bad. That's great, maybe dying's not that terrifying after all. But he does feel kind of dizzy, even lying down. He's not hurting anymore, so it could be either Peter taking his pain or because of the dying. Or both.

It takes an awful lot of time. Like, he doesn't _want_ to die, but he'd rather it would just happen instead of stretching out, agonizing Peter even more. Not that the other seems all that bothered. All cuddled up to him, running a hand up and down his back, nuzzling his neck. He doesn't feel as hot as he normally does. 

Stiles is warm, but it doesn't feel like it's coming from Peter for once, more like a heat inside himself. That's ridiculous — they can't have gotten that wrong about the process of dying, could they? 

He knows corpses are cold and stiff. Could it be that the body burns all the remaining energy just before shutting down, heating up before going cold forever? Or is there a way to be burning up from the inside while cooling on the outside? He would love to research that, but he lost his phone in the earlier fight and anyway, he's kind of occupied with dying, even though he's doing a horrible job with that…

He rolls over with a groan. This isn't working. Peter's chest vibrates against his side as he chuckles. "Are you back with me, sweetheart?"

Stiles opens his eyes to shoot him an annoyed glare. "I suck at dying."

"Well, I'm glad about that. How do you feel?" Peter caresses his face with one hand.

Stiles leans into it. "I'm pretty good. Like, great, actually. No more pain, no dizziness, not even discomfort…" He frowns and pushes himself up on his elbow. "What did you do?"

Peter smiles at him and shifts his eyes. Stiles has a moment of thinking _great, you made me a zombie too_ before noticing the red tinge to his own vision. He shoots up into kneeling. "You didn't!"

Peter sits up too, although slower, still smiling at him in awe. "I did."

"Are you crazy? That was your opportunity to become alpha again, and you made me one instead?" Stiles pushes him to make his point, but his new strength sends Peter back onto the ground.

"I know you never wanted to be changed, but you—"

"This isn't about _me_! It's about you throwing away your chance at alphahood! Who knows when the next one will open up?"

Finally, Peter looks serious. "I don't want to be alpha."

Stiles snorts a laugh. "Oh, yeah? I must have you confused with another Peter Hale who would have done anything for that."

"Stiles."

"What."

Stiles still feels defensive, is still trying to find out what Peter's goal is, but lets him take his hand and place it on his chest.

"I don't want to be alpha anymore."

"You know I can hear your heartbeat now, right?"

"I was never meant to be the alpha. But you're not wrong, I would have done anything to become one, rather than to submit to somebody who doesn't deserve it."

"Why give it to me, then?"

Peter gives him a disbelieving look. The _are you serious?_ one, the _didn't we get over this often enough?_ one. "Because you're protective and loyal and fierce. You don't hesitate when something needs to be done but think everything through before deciding. Because you'll be an amazing alpha. And I would be happy to belong to you."

"I'm sorry." Stiles stares at him, but Peter sees right through him.

"It wasn't a heat of the moment decision. I always thought you'd make a magnificent wolf and an even better alpha. You just never wanted the gift."

"And now I got myself bitten."

"And now you got bitten. You rejecting the bite had nothing to do with my choice."

Peter's heartbeat has been constant the whole time. Stiles doesn't doubt his skills to lie even to other 'wolves, but he wants to believe him. His breath hitches when Peter bares his throat to him. "So, will you accept me as yours? Alpha?"

Stiles leans down on instinct, pressing his teeth against Peter's throat.

There is a shift in the air, in himself. Something impalpable. Something incredible. He has read about pack bonds before, has talked about them with both born and bitten 'wolves, yet no description comes close to sensing Peter in his mind. It's a blissful experience, feeling new but oh so right.

Something else, in contrast, feels suspiciously familiar.

He lifts his head to stare at Peter in accusation, pretty sure about things now but asking, nevertheless. "How did you make me an alpha?"

Peter smirks. "We all know you admire Derek's phrase of ripping throats out with his teeth, sweetheart. I only showed you it's possible, even as a human."

"Gross, Peter!"


End file.
